


The Ice-Cold Caper

by roryteller



Category: Batman: The Animated Series, DCU Animated
Genre: F/F, Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-12
Updated: 2012-10-12
Packaged: 2017-11-16 03:30:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roryteller/pseuds/roryteller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harley and Ivy head out into the forest in the dead of winter to shut down a refinery that's threatening an endangered plant species. Rating for kissing, sexual themes, a bit of violence...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ice-Cold Caper

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old one, but heavily rewritten. Back in 2008 I was trying to do NaNoWriYe (I failed) and was doing a lot of fanfic challenges and whatnot (if you go on my FF.net account you can read a Birds of Prey fic from the same period). I was also on a comics kick, and read the Harley and Ivy comics and some Batgirl and Birds of Prey. I wrote the first version of this, but wasn't happy enough with it to post it. I forgot about it until after that computer died and wasn't able to open my .cwk files for years. I eventually found a way, reread it, didn't like the ending but did like some parts, spent a few days rewriting it, and here we are. Enjoy!

“I don't see why you wanted to come here, Red,” said Harley Quinn, pulling at the collar of her coat, which was red, covered with her trademark diamond pattern in black -- not real diamonds, much to her regret.

“Come on, Harley, look around you. It's beautiful. Nature at its finest.” Poison Ivy's smooth voice rang out over the silent snowscape that lay before them, like a performer in a hushed theater that hung on her every word. One almost had the impression the forest was listening, and knowing her it might have been. Her coat was deep green with brown buttons, edged in white – reminiscent of a snow-clad pine tree. Lace poked out of the cuffs and a thick, naturally pale wooly scarf wrapped around her neck.

“But Red, there's nothing here. And it's cold. Brrr.” She put her gloved hands in her pockets.

The two supervillainesses were standing out in the snow on a hill, surrounded on all sides by forested valleys. It was just after dawn on a glorious January morning, with not a cloud in sight. The snow crunched as Harley impatiently shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

“I'll make it up to you.” said Poison Ivy, wrapping an arm around Harley's waist.

“Well, okay,” said Harley. “So why ARE we out here, anyway?”

“That.” Poison Ivy turned around, and pointed to a plume of smoke curling upwards in the distance.

“They've built a refinery over there. The fumes are killing this forest.” She walked to the edge of the forest and brushed the snow off of some brown needles on the nearest pine. “There's a rare flowering vine that only grows here in this valley, and if we don't stop them, it may go extinct. Besides, it sure beats the city while Bats is on his little crusade.”

“True enough.” Harley shrugged. “Let's get inside.”

As Harley and Ivy headed back to their car, a small group of people carrying signs with slogans such as “We won't take it anymore/Kick polluters out the door!” blocked their path. A woman near the front gasped.

“Poison Ivy!” She stepped back, looking at the supervillains with wide eyes. A murmur went through the crowd, which parted to let them pass.

“Should we call the cops?” whispered a young man, probably a student, just a little too loudly.

“She's on our side, though. Probably.” said a young woman.

Harley reached under her coat to pull out a tommy gun. “Anyone who calls the cops gets it.”

“Nice,” said Ivy as she stepped into the car. “Old school.”

“Oh, you know me, Red. I'm just that kind of girl.” She pulled the trigger and peppered Ivy with fake flowers.

“Quit it.”

* * *

 “So, how do we do this?” Harvey pulled her coat closer. They were standing in a parking lot dressed in evening wear. Ivy was wearing makeup to cover her unusual skin tone and a black wig, but her green eyes still made her look striking.

“They're having a benefit dinner. We sneak in, I 'convince' the nice owner to get as into the refinery, we blow the place. Simple.” Ivy handed a photo to Harley. “This is him. Thomas Redfield.”

He looked around fifty, portly, with the unpleasant sort of smile that makes you wonder what he's hiding. His wife looked about the same age, slim, decked out in the finest money could buy.

“Oooh look at that necklace.” Harvey pointed a gloved finger at Mrs. Redfield's stunning – not to mention massive – jewelry. “Come to mama!”

“Focus. We're here for the access codes, not to steal.”

“Aw, can't I?”

“Don't get caught.”

“Okay!”

Ivy put a finger across Harley's lips to shush her. “Don't get too excited. The place'll be crawling with guards. And we have to blend in.”

“I can be respectable,” said Harley, straightening the glasses she had donned for the occasion and lowering her voice. “Don't forget, I used to be a psychiatrist.”

“True. Come on, let's go.”

They got in easily enough – Ivy had assured herself they would be on the guest list – and pretty soon Harley was swiping all the canapés. “Red- I mean, Pamela, you should try some. These are so good!”

“I've found him. Harley, come with me.”

Ivy lead the way through the crowd. She was wearing a little black satin dress and a carrying a black sequin-covered handbag that Harley knew held such necessities as poison and drug lipsticks, antidotes, various seeds and a weapon in case all else failed. Harley's own bag, a large red leather one that matched her dress, carried her favorite boxing glove gun among other gag weapons, along with zip ties, bandages, etc. The event was in a large conference room, with gray wall and blue carpet, and tablecloths to match, and most of the attendees looked like respectable middle-aged businesspeople – really not their sort of crowd.

They neared the Redfields' table, where the couple was seated along with two gray-suited men built like linebakers. Mrs. Redfield wasn't wearing the necklace from the photo, just an ordinary – if nice – string of pearls. Ivy sat down two tables over and Harley followed suit.

“Keep an eye on them,” Ivy said, unfolding a napkin onto her lap. “When he gets up to go to the bathroom, we'll separate him from the guards and make him get us into the refinery. Got it?”

“Sure, got it,” said Harley, but she was gazing intently at a brunette at the next table over. Ivy followed her gaze and could see why – the woman in question had a very nice dress and a nicer diamond ring.

* * *

 

After about half of a rather nice meal, Thomas Redfield finally got up. One of the suits started to stand, but he waved him off.

“This is our chance!” said Poison Ivy. They waited a moment, then followed him. Once in the hallway that lead to the bathroom, Poison Ivy planted a quick kiss on him.

“Come with us. You will let us in to the refinery.”

“Yes,” he said, his mouth twisting into a grimace.

“Good.” Poison Ivy took his arm and started leading him toward the front door.

Just then, a tall blonde woman came out of the bathroom. She gasped. Before she could say anything, though, Harley whipped out her boxing glove gun and knocked her out.

“Bam! Right in the kisser!”

“Harley!” Poison Ivy could hear the sound of running feet as the guards headed right for them.

“Coming, Red!” Harley had had time to swipe the woman's purse and necklace.

They ran for the door, Redfield in tow. Harley knocked out two guards and Poison Ivy snared another with some vines. They made it outside, and ran across the parking lot to their car. Ivy fumbled for her keys while Harley held onto Redfield, shivering. She unlocked the car and everyone piled in. They screeched out of the parking lot, leaving the guards in the dust. Ivy sped for a few miles, then turned on to a more major road and slowed down a bit. She knew the route to the refinery by heart.

* * *

 They arrived in good time. A few lights were on, though the parking lot was largely empty and covered in about six inches of snow. They hadn't brought a change of coats, just their costumes. Harley had put on her costume's boots and gloves and donned a red boa that she for some reason had stashed in the trunk. Poison Ivy had given up on deciphering her reasoning. She pulled on her gloves as well – it was better than nothing while waiting to get back to their cabin.

“We're going to have to knock out the guards,” said Ivy. “No way they'll believe we're here for legitimate reasons.”

“Leave that to me,” said Harley.

“Of course. I know you love that part.”

They walked Redfield over to the entrance. While he talked to the guard, Ivy hanging on his arm, Harley snuck up behind the guard and knocked him out with the side of her gun. They headed inside. Redfield got them past every security measure, grimacing all the way, and Ivy placed seeds here and there throughout the facility. They knocked out a few more guards and got to the control room, where Ivy had Redfield shut everything down. As they left, they could see that Ivy's plants were starting to grow, choking up the corridors and eventually engulfing the control room and several other key areas.

They got back into the car. Ivy drove them onto a side road and pulled over.

“Tie him up, Harley.”

Harley complied, attaching him securely to the back seat and gagging him.. Ivy administered the antidote to her mind-control lipstick. Redfield immediated began to struggle and tried to yell.

“Now, now, Thomas dear, you wouldn't want us to tell your wife about this!” Ivy shoved a photo in his face.

He shook his head vigorously.

“Good boy. If you play nice, this'll stay our little secret. If not...” she flipped a green blob at him. It splatted against his neck and sank in. “you'll have bigger worries than your marriage. I can kill you at any time.” She snapped her fingers and his face started to change color and his mouth opened like a fish as he tried to breathe. She snapped them again and he returned to normal. “See? Now will you do what I say?”

He nodded.

“You will call a press conference. Announce that the refinery is closed for good. Get out of industry, and spend the rest of your life cleaning up this forest. Return it to its original glory. Got it?”

His eyes wide and his skin pale, Redfield nodded. They released him a few hundred yards from a gas station and sped off to their cabin. It was quite a ways off the beaten path and it took them the better part of an hour to get there. It was a rental, under a false name. The first thing Harley did was head for the bathroom and start the bath. She poked her head out into the living room, where Ivy was taking off her boots.

“You coming, Red?”

“Just a minute, Harl.”

By the time Poison Ivy came in, Harley was already in the bath, a large, white, oval-shaped number that just barely fit two. Harley was blowing bubbles. She sat up when Ivy pulled off her dress, revealing some green skin.

“You look silly. I like you better green.”

Ivy unhooked her bra. “Well, we'll just have to fix that then, won't we?”

She climbed into the bath. It was hot, and the window next to the tub was completely steamed up.

“Oooh, that feels nice.”

“Doesn't it though? We should do this more offen.” Harley started scrubbing Ivy's back.

“Pity there isn't room for one of these at my place.”

“We could build a secret lair.”

“We could... if you stick around this time.”

“Maaaaybe.” Harley dunked her head under the water, then popped up again, splashing Ivy.

“Hey!” Ivy splashed her back and shoved her into the side of the tub. “Why you little-”

Harley giggled and grabbed the shampoo, squirting it at Ivy. Ivy responded by throwing the loofah at Harley. Pretty soon more of the water was on the ground than in the tub, and neither of them was all that much cleaner for it. They leaned back, laughing.

“I missed this,” said Harley.

“You know what, I did too.”

* * *

Twenty minutes and a second bath later, Harley was trimming her nails in the living room, an expression of intense concentration on her face. Ivy pulled on a green nightgown and ratty old rabbit slipper and strode across the room to root around in her handbag.

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

Harley played along. Ivy strode over and placed a ring in her open palms. Harley opened her eyes.

“That's the ring I wanted!” She held it up to the light, then did a double-take and looked Ivy in the eye. “You're not proposing, are you?”

“No, you doofus.” Ivy kissed Harley. “But it's almost Christmas, and you came all the way out here for me, so...”

“Oh, Red, you shouldn't have!” Harley put on the ring. “But when?”

“Before we even got up. My plants are very talented.”

Harley planted a kiss on Ivy's lips, then one on the ring.

“Boy, Red, you sure do know how to treat a girl.”

Ivy leaned in, put her arms around Harley and gave her a kiss, this one slow and lingering, then another, just below her jawline. She felt Harley go limp in her arms, and pulled back, inspecting the dazed expression on Harley's face.

“That's strange, you should be immune.” She grinned.

Harley beamed. “Mr. J never kissed me like that. Do it again!”

Poison Ivy pulled Harley closer. “Anything for my Harl.”


End file.
